


Gentlemen Prefer Blonds

by Arkada



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubiously consensual exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Thundershield - Freeform, Voyeur!Tony, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 17:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... Not that anyone’s ever called Tony Stark a gentleman. But that doesn’t stop him from enjoying an encounter between Thor and Steve in Stark Tower’s gym.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gentlemen Prefer Blonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OfApplesAndArrows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfApplesAndArrows/gifts).



> I do not own The Avengers, Thor's biceps, or Steve's abs.

Tony Stark wants it on the record that it is _not_ his fault that all of his teammates are so fucking hot.

They’re living in his tower now, and he’s more alright with it than he thought he’d be, manages okay with having new people in his space and touching his things. Manages less okay when he finds out about the trouble they get themselves into, the various nightmares and flashbacks, injuries and triggers.

So Tony keeps an eye on them. Just enough to know if they need help. He has tiny windows of security camera feeds floating in the background of all his screens, just in case something goes wrong. If Natasha gets a glimpse of any burning buildings on the news. If Steve finds more of Howard’s old photo albums, filled with people and places and time he’s lost. If Clint spills something and scalds his hand in _exactly_ the wrong place.

At least, that’s how it started. 

Because they do other things too, this team. There’s the sheer poetry in motion that is Clint spending three hours on the range tearing into the advanced multi-target simulations Tony’s rigged up for him. There’s just something really appealing about somebody who takes such pride in their work.

There’s Natasha polishing her knife collection, cleaning her guns, checking the charge on her Widow’s Bites. Because those aren’t actually a part of her, not really. She _is_ human, and when the weapons are spread out on the table in front of her, just inanimate tools, it’s clearer than ever. Tony doesn’t want to forget that.

It’s practically meditation to watch Bruce enjoying a cup of herbal tea over fifteen entire minutes, breathing in the fragrant steam and taking small sips that he lets linger on his tongue, swallowing and then savoring the aftertaste before he lifts the cup again.

Steve hitting the gym is always something special, because he’s like Natasha – really, truly human beneath the exterior enhancements. Steve has to work to keep up the levels of strength and fitness he demands from himself, and he works hard. He runs. Lifts weights. Spars with the others. Until he’s flushed and sweating and exhausted, and then he comes back the next day and does it again. Steve’s dedicated. Perfection doesn’t just happen. He’s like Clint, too – proud of what he does, and willing to put in the time to make it better.

Thor is always best when it’s raining, because then he goes out on the balcony and lies down and gets soaking wet, and just smiles. Occasionally Tony needs the reminder that smiles are a thing that can happen to people.  
  
And sometimes he checks and he just… keeps watching. Because the team are _really hot_ , okay, and he looks at these amazing people and he doesn’t want to look away.

But the others _know_ the cameras are there, and they’ve all got override codes for if they ever want privacy. Tony has a master override code, but he’ll never use it unless it’s an emergency.

Honestly.

A _real_ one.

And it’s not _that_ creepy and in no way reflects on Tony’s terrible people skills that he’d rather stare at screens than go watch in person. It’s just that eyeballs don’t have a zoom function and the cameras are there anyway and who knows, he might spot a security breach of some kind. 

He checks up now, just because he’s thinking about it – Natasha and Clint are out at a SHIELD meeting, Bruce is scrolling through an online database, Thor and Steve’s room is dark, one or both of them still sleeping, and-

_Ooh, hello._

Steve’s just walked into the gym, wearing a sinfully tight white t-shirt and black yoga pants, blond hair flopping over his forehead with no gel holding it in place, making it soft and tantalizingly touchable, toting a gym bag over one shoulder like it weighs literally nothing – which, to Captain America, is probably accurate.

Steve sets the bag down on one of the benches against the wall, pulls out a roll of tape and starts wrapping his hands. He gets really into it, too, the big movements making his biceps flex, the tiniest shifts in his abdomen as he keeps his balance while his hands fly around each other.

Tony expands the feeds from the gym to fill the screens in front of him. He dims the lights – via his phone, because it _is_ creepy to make Jarvis help out with this kind of stuff – and settles back into his cushy leather evil-overlord chair to watch the show.

Steve takes his shirt off.

Tony almost falls out of his chair.

He gets one hand to the keyboard, and zooms in. Every muscle in Steve’s chest is perfectly defined, but still nicely human, impressive without slamming Tony’s inferiority in his face, and it all flexes gently as Steve breathes and walks over to some piece of equipment. Tony glances to another screen with a different view, and gets the corresponding ripples down Steve’s bare back, and the shifting of his ass through the clinging black pants.

 _Damn,_ that thing looks holdable – big, firm handfuls that’d be warm and pulsing and alive, _mmm…_

Fuck, is Tony jealous of Thor, who actually gets to hold that ass on a regular basis.

Tony’s cock twitches in his boxers as Steve gets settled down across a weight bench, clearly planning to be here for a while.

Tony adjusts himself and tries not to drool.

Steve reaches up for the barbell suspended over him, and reveals the complete lack of upper body hair that he’s been blessed with. Big, strong hands wrap around the metal bar, and Steve’s arms flex and bunch as he lifts it upwards.

Tony eyes the weights on the ends for just long enough to ascertain that Steve’s bench-pressing about four hundred pounds for his warm-up, and something goes gooey and warm in Tony’s midriff section at the thought. This is raw, uncontained, force-of-nature power in _his_ house, _his_ gym, and for just a little moment Tony’s life is too awesome for words.

This coming from Iron Man and, hello, _Tony Stark_. Steve’s biceps are just that incredible.

Steve breathes slowly and calmly, not exerting himself at all, barbell going up and down and up and down in perfect rhythm, strength flowing under his perfect, smooth skin. There’s a single thin chunk of hair that’s worked itself over his face, and his lips purse into this kissable pout as he tries to blow it away.

Tony looks down again, to the slight tension in Steve’s abs and the way they rise and fall with his breathing, and the tops of his hips peeking over his pants. Those things are sitting ridiculously low, low enough that if Steve moved in just the wrong way, they’d work down over his ass and slide to the floor.

Tony lives in hope.

Then the door opens again, and Tony glances up to find Thor, still in pajamas, soft dark blue pants and nothing else. His shampoo-commercial hair looks like it’s been raked back from his face with his fingers, and Tony sees tiny creases in Thor’s skin where he’s been lying face-down on the sheets.

Thor smiles, and Tony’s chest gets glowy, even though the demigod’s clearly smiling at Steve. 

Thor _always_ smiles at Steve. It’s like an unchangeable fact of the universe.

“There you are,” Thor says. “I missed you from our bed when I woke.”

Steve sets the barbell back in the cradle and sits up, smiles at Thor in return. “Yeah, I had some energy I needed to work out. Nothing important.”

Tony knows Steve gets the nightmares bad. Checks the dates on every single product in the kitchen, trying to prove to himself that he hasn’t slept another seventy years away. Turns to Thor as his constant, because even if he _does_ go comatose again, Thor will still be there.

But not today. Today Steve’s just restless, and Thor nods, shoulders relaxing. Then he meets Steve’s eyes and grins, big and wide and white, and Tony sits up a little straighter because he knows what that look means.

Then again, his gym is full of shirtless, superpowered blond beefcake. It was kind of inevitable.

And if that _is_ the direction things are going, Tony should really turn the screens off. It’s the decent thing to do. He should.

Any time now.

Thor starts walking forward, slowly, loose pants rippling around his ankles. “I, too, have some energy I would like to work out,” he says, voice low and powerful, and loaded with innuendo.

Steve smiles, and waves at the weight bench. “Sounds good. Want me to spot you?”

_What._

Tony cannot even – no. How. Steve has actually broken the brain of Tony Stark. How can the guy who’s going steady with the God of Thunder miss the flirting? That went so far over Steve’s head it’s amazing the roof is still on.

Thor can’t believe it either, but his lips curl slightly at the corners as he steps up his game. “I had something more… intimate in mind,” he says, and okay, there’s no way Steve can miss _that_.

“Sparring?” Steve suggests, and Tony actually facepalms. The open smack of his hand feels good against the onslaught of Steve’s ignorance.

Thor growls, strides forward and somehow catches Steve up in his arms to turn and pin him hard against the wall, Thor’s hands pressed flat on either side of him, one by Steve’s head and the other by his shoulder, caging Steve in.

Steve blinks wide eyes. “Thor, what are you… someone will _see!"_  

“Let them,” Thor rumbles, ducks his blond head to press his mouth to Steve’s neck, a touch too harshly to be called a kiss. Steve gasps, drops his head to the side to give Thor better access, and Thor hums his approval.

He pulls back just far enough to speak into Steve’s skin. “I am not ashamed of you, nor my want for you. Are you shamed by me?”

“No,” Steve says, hands coming up to settle on Thor’s shoulders. “Never, but…”

“Then let them see.”

Oh. Tony’s hand is halfway extended to the keyboard, but Thor’s words… _Let them see._

And Steve flushes cherry-red but nods, and Tony slowly lowers his hand to his lap. That’s permission. Not that Steve knows Tony’s here. But it’s _like_ permission. Everything’s okay.

And it’s _not_ his fault, right, that they’re so hot.

Thor sets his lips on Steve’s throat again, sucking and kissing and nibbling softly at the skin. Steve’s leaning against the wall for support, fingers tightening on Thor’s shoulders, and then he gives a chuckle. “See what?”

Thor looks up, and raises an eyebrow in cool disbelief. “You are no fool. My intentions are perfectly clear.”

Steve shakes his head. “You haven’t said anything.”

Tony wants to shout at the screen like he’s watching a bad rom-com. _Come on!_ Steve’s a bit of a sheltered flower, but _no way_ can he be missing this! He’s got Thor worshipping his neck like it’s going out of style. Tony would be naked and bending over by now!

Then again, Tony would be bending over for _his_ personal demigod, Loki, who’s less about the neck-kissing and more about _here I am, now fetch the lube if your pathetic mortal ass still can’t handle the full might of a god._

Thor’s eyes narrow, and then his lips twist wryly. “We have shared a bed for months, and yet now you will play the innocent?”

Steve opens his big blue eyes _very_ wide. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Oh. _Steve, you cunning bastard._

Steve smiles sweetly. “You’ll have to show me.”

Thor lifts his chin, a grin spreading in realization that even Captain America is not _that_ naïve and wholesome, thank _god._ Steve knows flirting when he sees it. Knows roleplaying, too, which is definitely a surprise to Tony, but judging by Thor’s immediate acceptance of the game, it’s not so shocking to him.

“Oh, my beloved,” Thor murmurs, low and deep, and reaches with one hand to run a thumb over the flushed skin of Steve’s throat, “have I not already shown you my desire? I have kissed you and looked upon you with my feelings written clear upon my face, and still you know not what I want. You tell me to speak of it, and await my words alone.”

Thor leans in, slowly takes Steve’s earlobe between his teeth and sucks lightly before letting it go. Tony can see the sheen of saliva left behind on Steve’s skin, the rush of blood drawn to the surface.

“So I shall tell you exactly what I plan to do with you. Let you hear my desire. And hope my poor wooing will please you. Hear me, my Captain.”

“Uh…” Clearly it’s a struggle for Steve to think and be flirted at by Thor at the same time. He sucks in a breath, making – oh god – his chest heave, muscles rippling, his pecs rising and then falling as he exhales shakily. “Right. I’m listening.”

Thor shifts just a bit closer, until their foreheads are almost touching, and raises his hand again, to brush the pad of his thumb over Steve’s lips. “I shall begin here. Your pretty mouth I mean to kiss until you moan with lust for me, breathless and blushing, and you arch your hips to make your need clear. I shall tear aside these offending garments that hide you from my eyes, and take your hard and swollen cock in my hand.”

Steve gasps and his breath hitches, fingers clenching on Thor’s shoulders.

“You say you wish to spend your energy. Let us see how much you have to give. When you come for me it shall be but the first time of many. For then I shall open your body for my cock, and use your own spilt seed to slick the way.”

Holy. _Shit_. Tony might actually die of hot blond overdose.

“And if that is not enough then I shall take myself in hand, and milk us both until you are sufficiently prepared. I intend to use you long this morning, and it would not do to have you ill-made for it.”

Steve's gone vivid scarlet, practically glowing, and his arms flex as he tries to pull Thor closer. His hips are shifting, grinding in small motions against the empty air. “A-and then?”

“Then I shall fuck you.”

It sounds deliciously filthy coming out of Thor’s mouth like that – Thor who’s a prince, and uses every courtesy in the book, unfailingly polite. He’s a god, for crying out loud! And then something like this happens, and you remember that Thor is a _Norse_ god, and the Norse were enthusiastic barbarians whose idea of heaven was killing each other all day.

So when Thor says _fuck_ , he means it. 

“On your back and on your knees and however you will have me, I shall take you until we are both exhausted. And if the skill of the Mighty Thor should fail him-” Thor smirks, a promise that such a thing has never, ever happened, “-and you declare yourself unsatisfied, I shall take you in my mouth and suck you ’til you beg me to stop for fear of your life.”

Steve blinks, and draws in a slow breath in a very heroic attempt to get his blood back into his brain. He peels his eyes open and looks straight at Thor. “Now why couldn't you have done this the easy way and just said that to start with?”

“Oh, does my lord like my words?” Thor murmurs, running his thumb slowly over the arch of Steve’s collarbone. “Will he give himself over to my plan? Is he pleased with my desire?”

Thor leans in close, the fall of his hair almost catching Steve’s cheeks. “Have I pleased you?”

Steve lifts his chin. “Not yet, you haven't. I sure hope you’re not all talk. Get to work, soldier.”

Tony doesn’t know whether to shout it to the skies or jerk himself off right here. Captain America is a _kinky_ little fucker, isn't he? Steve ‘Just-A-Guy-From-Brooklyn’ Rogers totally ordered the God of Thunder to make with the service topping.

The world is a wonderful place.

Thor takes a step back and bows his head. “Aye, my Captain.” He looks up, slowly, eyes smoldering, all power and lust, and Tony isn’t sure how Steve hasn’t spontaneously combusted under the force of that look.

Then Thor lunges forward, pins Steve flat to the wall and crushes their lips together.

They’re almost fused, the two of them touching down every inch of their giant, muscular bodies, bare chests pressed to each other and one of Thor's legs thrust hard between Steve’s. Thor has a hand wrapped in Steve’s short hair, holding him exactly where he wants, and the other braced against the wall. Steve’s wrapped both hands around the back of Thor’s neck as if he needs help standing up.

The kiss is hot and fast and fiery, all control on Thor’s side as he suckles at Steve’s lips, breaks away to bite down before moving in again, licking across the seam of Steve’s mouth for entrance. Thor’s devouring him and Steve can only hold on.

Thor pulls Steve’s hair, tipping his head to the side for a better angle, and Steve gasps for air and leans forward to get some momentum back, fights Thor’s hold to slot their lips back together. Thor growls low in his throat and obeys, kisses Steve the way Steve wants, offers up sweetness and slower, lingering touches of his lips. Steve’s cheeks are bright red from the rub of Thor’s beard against them, or maybe from Thor’s goal, open arousal.

Not that Thor has to work very hard at it. Fuck, Tony can’t work out how they don't rip their pants every time they so much as see each other.

Steve laces his fingers through Thor’s long hair to pull him closer, and the muscles in Thor’s back ripple as he presses hard against Steve. Thor’s up on his toes, a few extra inches to lean over Steve and dominate the kiss, Steve’s head tilted back to let Thor in.

Thor’s the first to thrust his hips forward, a low moan spilling out from between their lips, and Steve groans and thrusts back. "Thor, please…"

"You have been kissed enough?" Thor says softly, bites at Steve’s lower lip before pulling back. "You are hard and eager for the rest of my promises?"

Steve, if possible, flushes even darker at that, and closes his eyes as his hips try to grind against Thor’s. "Yes, please, I want…"

"Shh," Thor breathes, and strokes both hands down Steve’s sides. Thor’s hands are huge, fingers long and thick, and they curve around Steve’s rib cage easily. Steve looks almost small next to Thor, somehow fragile, like everything is fragile when it comes up against a god. 

But then Thor kisses Steve one more time, soft and simple, breaks away slowly. Their lips hold together for the briefest instant before they split apart, like they don’t want to let go.

"Trust me," Thor murmurs. "I shall care for you."

Steve laughs breathlessly. "Oh, good, I was starting to worry." 

Thor runs his hands down to Steve's hips, and slides his fingers over the shape of the bones beneath Steve's skin and his sweatpants. Then Thor hooks his thumbs over the pants’ waistband and pushes them down.

Steve gasps, head falling back to hit the wall as the fabric falls, pinning down his cock before Thor crouches, pulls the pants entirely over Steve's hips and down his thighs instead. His cock springs free and Thor’s sitting back just far enough to let Tony see it, hard and thick, nestled in a patch of blond hair between Steve’s legs, heavy balls hanging beneath, and Tony sighs and tries not to come just at the sight of Captain America in all his glory.

Because there’s a lot of glory here.

Thor stands up, Steve naked and hard in front of him, and Thor smiles widely and reaches out to cup him.

Steve gasps and grabs for Thor’s shoulders again as Thor wraps his big hand around Steve’s cock, thumb circling the head. Thor’s golden tan looks beautiful against Steve’s flushed red skin, the size of Thor’s hand a perfect match to the size of Steve’s cock. They’re both so big that Tony tends to forget they can be graceful, but then Thor pumps Steve slowly, an easy slide of his hand down to the base of Steve’s cock and up again, pulling a moan from Steve’s kiss-bitten lips. Steve’s still wearing the athletic tape around his hands, and it’s stark white where he clings desperately to Thor’s shoulders.

The muscles in Thor’s arm flow under his skin as he pumps Steve again, down until his hand settles in the cradle of Steve’s hips, brushing the short blond hair there, and up the long length, thumb sliding through the bead of precome at the tip. Steve’s chest is heaving with his breaths, forehead pressed to Thor’s for support.

Thor steps away, lets go of Steve’s cock to wrap his bulging arms around Steve’s back instead, and tows him into the open space. Steve whimpers, almost falls forward and attaches his lips to the join of Thor’s neck and shoulder, tucking his face there and all but holding on with his kiss. Thor strokes a hand down Steve’s back and walks them over to the sparring mats, and lays Steve down oh-so-carefully.

Tony switches the camera feeds to follow them. Steve and Thor fill all six screens, shot from above, from two different sides. One screen is a bright blur of thermal imaging, bare skin radiating heat.

“There, that’s better,” Thor murmurs, kissing at Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s on his back, hips twitching up into the air, with Thor settled beside him. Thor’s propped up on one elbow, looking over Steve, as his other hand wraps back around Steve’s cock and starts stroking him, small motions of his fingers. Thor’s got one thigh thrown over both of Steve’s as if he’s pinning him down. He’s still wearing the pajama pants, soft dark blue fabric, and with him half-dressed and Steve completely naked there’s a delicious contrast between the two of them, Thor with all the power and all the control, Steve vulnerable, reliant on what Thor gives him, what Thor lets him do. Thor’s bigger, stronger, and it shows – his shoulders are wider, the muscles of his chest more ripped. Steve always has a touch of sweet softness about him – high flush over his cheeks, the fluttering of his pecs as he gasps for breath. But Thor’s like solid marble, beautiful yet hard and unyielding. His eyes have narrowed slightly and his lips are almost smirking as he watches what he’s doing to Steve, the way Steve’s hands are grasping at the mat for stability, the half-shut eyes, the heavy breaths pouring out of Steve’s mouth. Thor’s practically playing him like an instrument, his fingers composed and fluid on Steve’s cock, not letting up the assault for a moment, and Steve just has to lie there under Thor’s weight and take it.

Tony’s almost past wanting to get off. It’s one of the more beautiful things he’s ever seen.

Thor chuckles, and bends to kiss Steve’s shoulder again, long hair spilling over Steve’s skin. “You should have stayed in bed with me. I could have had you on silken sheets with every comfort to hand.”

“Wouldn’t want to – make things too easy for you.”

Thor speeds up the pace of his hand on Steve’s cock, thumbs the slit firmly. “Oh, but you do give up your pleasure so very easily, my Captain. It takes little enough to bring you to your peak. You aren’t cruel enough to deny me. Are you?”

Steve’s breathing hitches. “N-no.”

“Then _come_ ,” Thor says, “come for me, my love,” and squeezes hard and _pulls_ and Steve comes, back arching high, hips pushing up into Thor’s hand as white streaks from the tip of his cock, splashing over Thor’s skin. Thor smiles, sits straight and brings up his other hand to catch Steve’s come on his fingers, pumping his cock softly like he doesn’t want to miss any.

Steve exhales slowly and his muscles relax all down his body, tension going out of his arms as his hands settle flat against the sparring mat. He blinks and looks up at Thor. “You’re almost _too_ good at that, you know.”

“I _am_ a god,” Thor says wryly, “and I have a great deal of experience. Experience I am glad to place in your service.”

He leans down, catching himself on an elbow, to kiss Steve gently, tongue slipping between his lips. Steve’s cheeks hollow as he sucks, eyes fluttering closed, and he lifts a hand to slide his fingers into Thor’s hair.

Thor pulls back to break the kiss. “Shall I continue?” he asks, as if Steve might have reconsidered the whole idea. Tony doesn’t think it likely.

Steve just nods, lets go of his handful of hair and runs his fingers down Thor’s face as he pulls away, pressing in to feel the scratch of Thor’s beard. Thor smiles. “Then turn over.”

Steve rolls onto his front, slowly, and before Thor needs to say a word he spreads his legs, parting the thick slabs of muscle. Steve’s glorious from this side, too, muscles laddering down his back, the perfect swell of his tight ass, the tendons standing out in the backs of his knees. His shoulders tense slightly as he finds a place to put his hands, finally resting them on the mat, either side of his head. “Alright.”

Thor shifts, slides down a little, still lying on his side next to Steve, but now those long arms can reach down Steve’s body and between his legs, slip carefully upwards-

Steve gasps and jerks at the first touch of Thor’s wet fingers, head flying up and hips lifting, and Thor chuckles and pushes his hand forward. Something slips into Steve, a fingertip or maybe two, and he moans, low and loud, rolls his hips into Thor’s hand. It’s a whole new side to Steve that Tony never really gets to see, the way he can just let it all be about _him_ for once, take his pleasure from Thor without responsibilities or duty hanging over him. Steve’s greedy like this, wordlessly pleading for more, and Thor doesn’t disappoint.

Thor pulls back, collects the splashes of come on one finger, and with one smooth thrust he buries it to the hilt inside Steve. Steve writhes, clutching at the mat, breath coming short and quick as he adjusts to the huge intrusion of Thor’s finger. Thor has _really big hands_ , okay, and taking that can’t be easy.

Thor rubs firmly at Steve’s shoulder. “Am I paining you?”

Steve shakes his head _no_. “Fine, just – one minute…”

Thor hums acknowledgement and keeps massaging the tension in Steve’s upper back, hand working from left to right and back again, as Steve breathes and the muscles in his mesmerizing ass slowly unclench. “Thor…”

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

Thor smiles, and does something with his hand that makes Steve arch upwards, head thrown back, hands scrabbling to catch himself before he crashes down. “Just there?” Thor murmurs, the tease, and toys with Steve’s prostate again and Steve gives a sobbing moan.

Tony’s cock pulses in time to the sound, throbbing bright and hot. But he can’t take his eyes off the screens, can’t do anything that means he might miss something. Thor and Steve are majestic and Tony’s not sure he couldn’t come just from watching them.

Thor carefully works a second finger into Steve, stretching the pink flesh tight around his thick digits. Steve’s hips twist, grinding into the mat, as Thor pumps his fingers forward and then back. They pull out of Steve’s body clean of the smears of come, and Tony goes hot at the thought that Steve’s insides are covered with it.

“Still not slick enough,” Thor says. “Can you spill again so soon? Or would you be marked by me before I have even had you?”

Steve twitches, and points across the room, at his gym bag sitting abandoned on one of the benches against the wall. “Vaseline. In there. Don’t want to wait.”

Thor’s eyes darken as his pupils blow even wider, and he surges to his feet and strides across to seize Steve’s bag. He yanks it up and storms back, drops it beside Steve and takes the opportunity to _finally_ strip off those pajamas.

Thor’s cock is thick and tantalizingly long as it bobs, rock hard, in front of him, the muscles of his legs toned beyond perfection. He’s impossibly attractive, like people should be plastered over him at all times, and Tony has no problem agreeing that yes, this _is_ a god, right here in his gym, about to fuck Captain America.

Thor crouches and roots through Steve’s bag, coming up with the small tub of Vaseline. He dips his fingers in and they come back out shining with it, and he reaches for Steve’s ass again like he doesn’t want to wait either. Thor’s fingers slide back into Steve like they belong there, and he pumps them back and forth a few times, arm muscles flexing, Steve gasping for air.

“So good,” he pants, rocking his hips against the mat and back into Thor’s hand. “Thor, please – more, please, I want-”

Thor’s hand shifts and Steve’s words fall into incoherence as Thor does something inside Steve’s body that Tony can’t quite see, going for his prostate again or good old scissoring his fingers apart. Tony would call further prep unnecessary, based on the size of Thor’s fingers, if he hadn’t seen the _cock_ that Steve’s expected to take. It almost feels like Thor should plug him and come back tomorrow, and maybe _then_ he’d be loose enough.

Maybe Thor should do that anyway. Tony would pay half his fortune for Thor to do that anyway.

Thor stills his hand and leans forward. “Are you ready?”

Steve nods. “Y-yeah, please – just get _in me-_ ”

Ooh, that was nearly dirty! Thor’s been teaching Steve bad habits.

“Then turn again, my sweet,” Thor says, and pulls his hand away. It takes his guidance for Steve to push himself onto his back, revealing his once-again poundingly hard cock, jutting up between his thighs. Steve meets Thor’s gaze, both pairs of blue eyes dark with lust, and spreads his legs. Thor crawls between them and settles himself over Steve, hands bracketing Steve’s shoulders. Steve lifts his legs to wrap them around Thor’s waist, power and muscle coiling around Thor’s body as if anything can move him without his say-so.

Thor looks down at Steve, all his teasing gone quiet, and reaches one hand between their hips. Steve inhales and Thor cants forward, and both their heads fall back with a blissed expression that means Thor’s in.

Easy as that. Like they were made for each other.

Thor puts his hand back down and rocks his hips once, hair swinging, and Steve moans and his legs tighten around Thor’s body. “Don’t stop,” he gasps, “ _Thor,_ ” and that’s all it takes for Thor to really get started.

And then a hand shoots out of nowhere and grabs Tony’s shoulder.

“Stark,” says Loki’s voice, dark and menacing, and chills run up Tony’s spine, “why are you watching my brother copulate?”

Tony swallows. Suddenly this whole spying thing seems a lot less like a good idea. “Okay, are you pissed? And if so, are you pissed because I’m perving on someone else, or because that someone is your brother, or because you’re morally opposed to the idea of perving in itself?”

“Who says I am angered at all? I simply asked you a question.”

“Okay. Right. In that case, it’s because they’re hot naked blonds screwing, now shut up and sit down, it’s just getting good.”

Steve has his hands on Thor’s shoulders, holding on tight as Thor fucks him with slow, deep strokes, a rolling, powerful rhythm curling up that ripped body before Thor thrusts into Steve again, muscles tensing and relaxing, his legs long where they stretch out over the mats, toes pressed down for leverage, his ass round and tight, clenching with every push forward. Steve’s moaning softly, his eyes shut, body arching to meet Thor’s again and again.

“Then you find them attractive, yes?”

“Are you kidding me? _Look_ at them.”

Steve’s heel digs into Thor’s ass as he shakes with a particularly deep thrust.

“I mean, incest aside, are you really going to look at this and tell me you aren’t the _slightest_ bit turned on right now?”

Loki chuckles. “You say that word as if it would deter me. I happen to be _very_ appreciative of my brother as a lover.”

So Tony’s not the only dubiously-moral voyeur around here. Good to know. Loki probably spies on Thor all the time, just on the evil principle of the thing.

Thor slides a hand under one of Steve’s legs and bends it upwards to get a better angle, caressing and then groping Steve’s thigh with claiming fingers.

“Yes,” Steve moans, like Thor’s flicked a switch, “yes, Thor, please – oh, Thor, Thor, _yes!_ ”

Thor speeds up, just a little, hips pumping into Steve’s, rocking them both with the force of his thrusts.

“He is quite fine, your captain,” Loki says thoughtfully, leaning over Tony’s shoulder, a hand braced on the back of his chair. “He takes it very well, don’t you think? It’s no easy thing, to take Thor’s cock. I’ve done it myself, a time or two.”

“You’ve-” Tony’s brain tries, it really does, but there are just no words for this situation. All he can think about is how _appreciative of my brother as a lover_ suddenly sounds completely different and whether Thor bent Loki up like he’s bending Steve now, if Loki clutched his brother desperately and begged for more- “What?”

“Mmm. Though I prefer making him take mine.”

 _Making him._ Tony’s head spins a complete one-eighty. There’s a flavor to the words that screams _kinky powertrip bondage sex_ and Tony almost comes in his pants at the new visuals: Thor in heavy cuffs and Loki with knives in hand and the tip of one pressed to Thor’s throat, forcing him to be still as Loki pushes his cock inside him, and dear god, this is Tony’s punishment for perving on his teammates, isn’t it? This is divine retribution, the bolt of lightning from on high for giving Steve and Thor no privacy.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps.” Loki leans in even closer and his cool, wet tongue traces the shell of Tony’s ear. Shivers pour down Tony’s spine. “But I promise you the sweetest of deaths.”

This started out as a simple ogling-Steve’s-abs session, how did this happen?

“Your tongue should be illegal.”

Loki laughs. “Oh, it is.”

“ _Thor_ ,” Steve cries, and Tony refocuses on the screens. Steve’s eyes are screwed shut, his head thrown back as Thor keeps up his steady pace, over and over and over, pumping in and out.

“Thor, please – more, I need more!”

“Tell me what you want,” Thor says, slightly breathless, but amazingly composed, circumstances considered. “Tell me what you want and I shall grant it to you.”

“I – Thor, please-”

“ _Say it._ ”

“Make me come,” Steve whispers.

Yep. It’s official. Tony is dying of the hotness.

Thor grins widely and snaps his hips, hard and fast, in short strokes that have Steve moaning and his arms falling limply to the mat, hands still wrapped in tape like there’s any possibility he’d get back to his workout after this. Thor’s whole body is flowing into Steve’s, it looks like, every muscle twisting and working under his flawless golden skin. He gets his hand behind Steve’s upraised knee and lifts it higher, and Steve arches beneath him, back bowing off the mat.

“ _Thor!_ ” Steve shouts, and his entire body shudders deliciously and his mouth falls open in ecstasy as he comes, splattering his tense abs, his hands twitching where they lie on the mat.

Thor grunts, buries himself to the hilt inside Steve and goes still, head hanging down and his face curtained by his hair, back rigid and his muscles locked. Steve moans and Thor’s hips twitch forward ever so slightly, like he’s pumping his come into Steve, and Tony goes hot and liquid lust pools somewhere low inside him.

Rather like Thor’s come is pooling inside Steve.

They blink slowly, clearing the haze from their eyes, and Steve reaches up with shaking hands to push Thor’s hair behind his ears. For a moment they just look at each other as their breathing slows, chests heaving.

Then Steve smiles. “I think I worked out some of that energy, after all.”

“Good.” Thor leans down, still inside Steve, to kiss him softly, a swift brush of their lips before Thor rears up again. “Though if you still have any left, I have not finished what I promised.”

Steve groans, and slaps Thor’s bicep. “Give a man a minute.”

Thor lowers his head. “I shall obey my Captain.”

He shifts his hips, pulling out at last, and crawls sideways to flop down on his back beside Steve. They’re both gleaming with sweat in the bright gym lights, making their already perfect skin shine, and their chests rise and fall as they suck in deep lungfuls of air.

Steve reaches across to take Thor’s hand in his, and Thor smiles up at the ceiling and strokes the back of Steve’s hand with his thumb.

They look perfectly sweet and content and sated, and that’s lovely, but Tony’s ridiculously hard by this point and now he has Loki breathing low and rough in his ear, and he wishes Steve and Thor would get back to it already.

“Come on, guys, I’m dying of old age here.”

Loki chuckles, and slips around from behind Tony’s chair to stand in front of him, blocking the screens and throwing them into near-total darkness. Loki’s a black silhouette as he reaches out for Tony.

“As I see it, you have two choices,” Loki murmurs, and a long-fingered hand slides slowly over Tony’s shoulder and starts creeping down his chest.

“You can stay here and waste your time waiting for them to arouse themselves again, and pray I do not grow bored of watching when I cannot touch.” His hand flutters away. “Or, you record it all and view it at your convenience later… after you have taken advantage of my present desire and given yourself to me for the next several hours.”

Tony glances somewhat longingly at the screens, and if Steve or Thor had moved towards another round then maybe Tony would have reconsidered. But he’s got a horny Loki in front of him right _now_ , and he knows what his answer is.

“All yours.”

Loki grins, bright in the darkness. “That’s right,” he purrs, and fists his hand in Tony’s shirt and teleports them away.

**Author's Note:**

> Epic amounts of thanks to my betas, [Hannahrhen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen) and [Haldane](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Haldane/pseuds/Haldane) :) Couldn't have done it without you guys!
> 
> Second chapter, following what Loki and Tony get up to, is planned but I don't know when it will happen.
> 
> As ever, find my Tumblr [here](http://ao3-arkada.tumblr.com/) if that sort of thing interests you.


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